


The Sea Could Never Compare

by EffervescentYellow



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24033379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffervescentYellow/pseuds/EffervescentYellow
Summary: “Mrs. Baxter’s right, it’ll feel strange not having you around.”“Soon enough you won’t know the difference,” Mr. Barrow sighed.“Yes, I will.”Mr. Barrow didn’t reply to that, just stubbed out his cigarette on the ground. After a moment, though, he looked over at Richard, chin still resting in his hand, eyes wide in the darkness, “Are you happy here, Mr. Ellis?”
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Comments: 9
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

When Richard was younger, he had always ached to go somewhere new. He first ached to go to school with his brother and sister, then ached to finish and get a job. He had ached to leave York so badly afterwards that he volunteered for the war. Whitney and his da had warned him not to, but that was before everyone knew how hellish it was, so he did it anyways, anxious for adventure and glory and all those other things boys dream of. What a painful choice it was to think about now. Once in the trenches he ached to be back on Yorkshire soil, amongst the green fields and sloping fields, and once there he ached for the busy life he’d heard about in London.

He’d come to London fresh-faced and already in tempo with the city life, and it didn’t take long for him to work his way up the houses of society. He might have been lacking in plenty of other areas, but a tall figure, a handsome smile, and a compliment at just the right moment could get a lad far in London. If not in the houses directly, then surely in the underground maze of clubs and dance halls. A couple of years and a couple more favors later, and he arrived at the palace, seemingly at the top of the world to the outside, but very much on the bottom rung of the latter within the royal household. It took more than charm then, so he began to scrape his way up, along the way finding less and less time to haunt the London clubs or visit his family or even sit down in the morning and have a conversation over tea until he woke up on the morning of his 37th birthday with a sweet letter from his mother and sister and realized that he was astoundingly lonely.

He began to ache in a new way then, the kind that settled less in his throat and more in his heart. As much as he tried to ignore it, polishing shoes and starching collars that needed neither polish nor starch, it persisted, and maybe it had really been there all along. 

Richard finally wrote to Caroline, because he didn’t want to worry his parents and because Caroline was the most pragmatic person he’d ever met. She told him not to make any rash decisions, but asked him if he was happy, and when he thought about it reasonably, he decided the answer was no. He was decently happy with his salary, and had been happy to visit many of the houses in Britain and twice even the coast of France, and he had liked the freedom one found in London, but money and adventure and freedom felt hollow without a soul to share them with. He wasn’t going to get married, and he wasn’t going to have any children of his own, but back in York he at least had a small collection of people who cared for him and five young nieces who still found holidays magical, candy floss filling, and an uncle fun.

He had also always worried about getting caught out. The downstairs of the palace seeped with gossip so thick you could ladle it out with a spoon, and Richard knew that the longer he stayed and the higher he rose, the sooner that ladle would come to spoon off his head. He wasn’t young enough anymore to believe that it was worth it.

He didn’t make any rash moves however; he wasn’t that much of a fool anymore. He stayed in his place and kept up with the everyday, but four months later it seemed like the decision was made for him. Caroline wrote him again saying that he shouldn’t worry, but their mum was sick.

He remembered the way Da went, slowly and sickly but with plenty of time to say goodbye, yet he knew that luck wasn’t going to be on his side every time. Richard wanted to be close enough to see her, not just to write, so he turned in his notice and got his reference from the much-disgruntled Page of the Backstairs and then slipped away with only a slight to-do by the younger men vying for his position. 

oOo

Being at home was odd; he felt seventeen again, except now Mum spoiled him more than scolded. Richard tried to spoil her back, but he was rubbish at cooking or laundry, so he spent much of the day making sure that all her glassware and silver shined, running errands to the market, and telling her amusing stories about life in the palace. Caroline and Whitney both brought their families for a visit now and again, and it wasn’t as awkward as it could have been. His nieces positively delighted him, and though he was jobless without any current prospects, he found that thinking of getting to see them more often was rather reassuring. He did check the papers everyday as well, looking out for any job he would be qualified for. He wasn’t necessarily looking for another job in service, but he didn’t have many other skills it seemed. There were quite a few advertisements for footmen, but nothing above that appeared for the whole first month he was in York, until one day he saw a notice for a butler at Downton Abbey.

He’d heard about the house before, because it wasn’t very far from York, but his travels with the royal household hadn’t actually ever brought him there. Richard wasn’t sure that they would find him qualified enough to be a butler, but his royal credentials had led to many a good answer in the past, and so he applied.

oOo

Just a fortnight later, he found himself staring up at the steep walls of the abbey, thinking that for all the rage of the royal estate, he found Downton rather more impressive in the way it stood up on its own hill. As much as he hated to admit it, his stomach was in knots as he was brought down the dive; it’d been so long since he’d interviewed for a new position. Once there though, he was led in through the back door by a young, toffee-haired footman and found the rhythm and tick of the staff downstairs to be familiar, if not at a slightly slower pace, and he sucked in a breath and pinned back his shoulders. This felt familiar at least.

The same footman took his hat and coat and led him to the Butler’s pantry, leaving him to wait outside as he set off in search of the butler. It wasn’t but five minutes later before he heard two sets of footsteps on the stairs and looked up to see the footman returning alongside the butler. 

“You must be Mr. Ellis,” he said matter-of-factly, and Richard nodded.

“Mr. Barrow, I presume?”

“Indeed, why don’t you come in. Would you care for any tea?”

The footman was sent off in search of tea as Mr. Barrow settled in behind his desk and gave him a neutral smile. They started off with small talk as they waited for tea, and Richard felt himself slowly growing more at ease. Conversation was something he excelled at.

Mr. Barrow was exceptionally young for a butler, but already Richard found him to be practiced, polished, and possible even kind, a quality not often found in butlers. Richard also figured that he was probably younger than the butler by at least a couple of years, and he wasn’t sure if that would be to his advantage here or not. Mr. Barrow was handsome, too. Richard noticed these things of course and was already having to catch himself from staring too long at his pale cheekbones and clear grey eyes.

Once the tea arrived, Mr. Barrow started the real interview, asking about his experiences, his past employers, and so on.

“You were last employed at Buckingham Palace, and yet you left of your own accord. That seems rather unusual, does it not?”

“I suppose it does, but my mother has taken ill recently, and I wanted to be closer to home, in York.”

“And you feel qualified to be a butler, not having been one before?”

“I do. I don’t think many butlers were butlers before, if you know what I mean. They tend to become butler and stay where they are, not moving about.”

Mr. Barrow raised an eyebrow at that, “I would think most people tend to get a job with the royal household and stay where they are, not moving about.”

Richard couldn’t help but chuckle at that, and Mr. Barrow gave a small smirk back before continuing with his questions. They continued that way for another hour before Mr. Barrow sighed, “Well, Lady Mary was particularly excited to see an applicant with Buckingham Palace as a reference, and I was skeptical, but I think you might do fine.”

Mr. Barrow looked at him with a questioning eyebrow once more, and Richard questioned back, almost incredulous, “Is that an acceptance?”

“You’ll need to meet with Lady Mary first. She wanted to have the final say, but yes, I’ll suggest that you come on as butler.”

Richard couldn’t help but grin then, “Well that’s wonderful news, I’m very pleased to hear it.”

“Don’t be, not yet,” Mr. Barrow sighed, “Lady Mary is quite particular.”

oOo

Mr. Barrow was right, Lady Mary went over every inch of his application again, questioning him the whole way through while staring at him so forcefully that he felt she could see straight through. Once or twice he saw Mr. Barrow sigh and glace to the clock as he stood rigid in the corner, and Richard had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from smirking. At the end of the interview, Lady Mary stared at him silently for what seemed like an age before glancing back at Mr. Barrow, “Yes, I think he’ll do,” before looking back at him, “When can you start?”

Calculating how long it would take to get to York and back with his few things packed, he replied, “I could start the day after tomorrow.”

“Wonderful, we shall expect you then. Mr. Barrow will be staying on for the first few weeks to ensure that the transition goes smoothly, which I do hope it does. Everyone is going to be so jealous that I will have a royal butler.”


	2. Chapter 2

Two days later, Richard arrived at Downton with just one suitcase full of all his belongings. It always made him sad to see the new staff arrive at the palace, grown adults with just one small case of everything they owned in the world, and now it was his turn. Mr. Barrow greeted him at the door with a small quirk of his lip and led him up to the rooms in the attic. They stopped before the one with the small sign reading “Butler” in thin calligraphy.

“This one is for you. It isn’t much but it’s the nicest on the hall.”

“You won’t be needing it while you’re still here?”

“No, I bought a cottage down the road a few months back. I’m quite ready to live their full time now. I’m afraid not many people actually live here full time now. On the men’s side there’s just the two footmen, a hall boy, and the chauffeur, and on the women’s, you’ve just got the head housekeeper Mrs. Baxter, Lady Mary’s ladies’ maid, and a couple of housemaids. Most everyone else just lives in town these days. Must seem rather different from the palace.”

“Indeed, it does, but I suppose it’s not a bad change.”

“Well I’ll give you a moment to unpack your things. Come find me downstairs when you’re finished, and I’ll give you a tour of the house.”

Richard set about unpacking his few belongings into the wardrobe and small chest of drawers. He didn’t have much of anything interesting save a picture of his family, which he set up on his nightstand. In less than half an hour he was back downstairs knocking on Mr. Barrow’s door.

“That was quick.”

“A bloke doesn’t have much to unpack after a life’s worth of service.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“How on earth do you have enough to fill a whole cottage of your own, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Frankly, I don’t. I borrowed a few things but otherwise it’s rather empty. Not quite sure yet how I’ll go about filling it.”

“What will you be doing? Now that you’re retiring here?”

“I’ve bought a small storefront in town, going to start my own clock shop.”

“That’s quite the career change Mr. Barrow.”

“I grew up around clocks, know my way about them. Probably should have made the move a lot earlier if I’m honest, but it’s hopefully not too late.”

“I’m sure it isn’t.”

“Right, because you’re an expert in clocks and career changes now.”

Richard couldn’t help but laugh at that, and he was pleased when Mr. Barrow lifted an amused eyebrow back. He could already tell he was going to miss his presence once the position was his alone. “Shall you show me around, then?” Richard asked finally, “I’ve not seen much yet besides here and the library.”

They made their way around the house then, Mr. Barrow stopping often to explain the intricacies of different features and traditions, and Richard trying to keep it all straight in his head. It took a long time, with Mr. Barrow leading him into every room of the entire house, and by the time they finished, Mr. Barrow looked as tired as he felt, both sniffling from old dust and perfect hair slightly askew. Richard found it endearing really, despite feeling a bit adrift at sea.

“I’m not expecting you to learn it all in a day. That’s the point of me staying on for a while.”

“I’m quite glad,” and he really was, “I quite honestly don’t think I could manage otherwise.”

“We still have some time before dinner. Why don’t I properly introduce you to Mrs. Baxter. You can meet the rest of the staff over the meal, though I’m afraid you’ll need to brace yourself as all the maids are over the moon at meeting someone who dressed the king.”

“Aren’t they all,” he sighed. Even the younger maids at the palace felt the same, as they never got to be too close to the royals themselves.

“I wouldn’t know,” Mr. Barrow quipped, “Never touched a king myself.”

oOo

The two of them sat down for some tea with Mrs. Baxter once they were back downstairs, and Richard found he liked her almost immediately. She had kind eyes and a kind smile and soft voice that made her sound very sincere.

“It’s very nice to meet you Mr. Ellis,” she smiled at him gently, “I’ll miss our Mr. Barrow very dearly, but new faces are always welcome, and I trust his judgement in hiring you.”

Mr. Barrow blushed at that. Richard tried not to pay attention; it wasn’t as if it would get him anywhere, but he couldn’t help sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye.

“Mrs. Baxter is really just glad I didn’t hire some old, stuffy butler to replace me,” Mr. Barrow smirked, and Mrs. Baxter glared at him playfully before turning back to Richard, “Mr. Barrow and I meet every night before everyone retires to go over the day’s events and plan for the next. I assume you’ll be joining us while Mr. Barrow is still here, and afterwards you and I will continue. It never needs to be for long, but I find it helpful and I believe so does Mr. Barrow.”

“Of course,” Richard nodded professionally.

“Good. We’d better get on with dinner preparations for now, but I’ll see you both tonight.

oOo

Dinner went as smoothly as one could expect with a new butler. The Crawleys were all interested in his arrival, which made it difficult to blend into the wall as staff are meant to do, but they overall made it through without a hitch. Richard took the role of under-butler for the meal as Mr. Barrow led, but Richard watched him carefully the whole time, trying to pick up quickly on the family’s attitudes, quirks, and preferences that Mr. Barrow had been studying for years.

Once finished, he helped serve drinks in the drawing room before retiring downstairs with Mr. Barrow and the footmen. At the staff dinner, the maids did indeed ogle him the whole time, and all the younger staff members asked a seemingly endless stream of questions, which Richard tried to answer with patience until Mrs. Baxter finally told them all to let Mr. Ellis finish his meal. It did always make him nervous when so many people began inquiring into his personal life, as he knew the kind of damage that could bring, so he tried to keep his stories about the royals or his old colleagues rather than about himself. He wondered how long one could last with that in a small house like this.

After the meal, he retired for tea with Mr. Barrow and Mrs. Baxter, listening them discuss what would need to be done for the next day before discussing the books they had both read recently. He was surprised at how close they seemed; it was more than just professional but definitely not romantic. He was beginning to get in his own head about how things might go with Mr. Barrow gone when Mrs. Baxter turned to him.

“Do you like to read, Mr. Ellis?”

“Eh, not particularly. Never really been one to read for pleasure.”

“What’d you do with your evenings then?” Mr. Barrow asked, seemingly aghast at hearing he didn’t like to sit down with a good book.

“Never had much time to sit about in the evenings really, but I suppose when I do, I mainly just like to make conversation or listen to the wireless.” He had seen the piano in the servant’s hall though, and though he hadn’t played in ages, he brought it up thoughtfully, “I like music quite a lot when I was younger though, I might try the piano sometime.” Both of them looked excited at that prospect, which made Richard blush, “I haven’t played since I was about sixteen, but then I haven’t had a piano to practice on.”

“I think that’d be lovely,” Mrs. Baxter said softly.

When Richard looked over at Mr. Barrow, his eyes were wide and filled with a warm depth that hadn’t been there earlier.


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas got used to having Mr. Ellis around quickly. He hadn’t expected to really, but he liked the change of pace. With such an important previous position, he had expected Mr. Ellis to be pretentious or rude, and though he liked him in the interview, he still wasn’t sure if that was just a façade. However, as the first week passed, Mr. Ellis remained the same: cheerful, diligent, and always full of good conversation. After living in one place with the same people for so long, conversations could also get dull, but as Mr. Ellis began to get more comfortable with him and the other members of the staff, the conversations around the table were more entertaining than they had been in years. During the evening meetings with Mrs. Baxter, they spent more time off that topic of work with each passing day, and he knew neither he nor Mrs. Baxter minded.

The family still didn’t seem quite convinced by him, but of course they hadn’t begun to learn his personality either. To them, he was just a new face in the corner who still hadn’t mastered the ins and outs of the house. He was sure they would get used to him though. The Crawleys had not been pleased when Thomas turned in his notice. They were rather shocked really, but he figured they would get used to it as long as someone was still there to keep things in order. With the children gone from the house now too, Thomas found it was surprisingly easy to make the decision to leave.

Mr. Ellis was a quick learner on everything except the bookkeeping and wine, but valets are never trained in those areas, so Thomas wasn’t really concerned yet. He gave Mr. Ellis a book on wine pairings to read and spent a lot of time with him in the butler’s pantry carefully going over the books and ledgers. Mr. Ellis seemed to dread the book work, but Thomas looked forward to these moments each day. Even though he got along well with the rest of the staff now, he had never worked alongside someone quite like Mr. Ellis. He imagined if they were to work together longer, they might really become friends.

That in itself was a wonder to think about, and frankly not likely to happen with Thomas leaving in a couple of weeks, so he tried to refrain from thinking farther than that. He wasn’t always successful though. Mr. Ellis was gorgeous and kind-spirited and in quiet moments he sometimes found himself daydreaming about the bright-eyed man. Thomas had long ago stopped expecting anything, though, so he tried to pretend to himself that it was nothing.

oOo

Late in the evening on his eighth day, Mr. Ellis sat in the servant’s hall blinking slowly over the book on wines, looking tired and bleary eyed. Andy and the chauffeur, Michael, were at the other end of the table playing cards as Daisy looked on, but Thomas hadn’t joined them tonight, choosing instead to finish the crossword he’d been trying to finish from that morning. Mr. Ellis eventually shut the book, rubbing his eyes, and looking up Thomas.

“Why did you want to open a clock shop?”

Thomas put down his pencil, surprised by the question, though maybe he shouldn’t have been. Mr. Ellis had a knack for asking all the right questions. “Sorry?”

“I just mean, why quit? You seem to like it here.”

Thomas had to think for a minute on how to reply, “I’ve been here most of my life. I think it’s hard to know if you like something if you’ve never done anything else.”

“But why now?”

“All the children moved out of the house this year, off to London both of them. It felt like the right time to go as well.”

Mr. Ellis nodded at that, considering, “How did you learn about clocks then, since you’ve not done anything else.”

“My father was a clockmaker.”

“Any you didn’t work for him, after school?”

“We didn’t get along.”

Mr. Ellis looked mildly embarrassed then, “Right, sorry.”

“You get along well with your family, though.” Mr. Ellis had mentioned them before, but Thomas was eager to change the subject from his own life.

“I do, yeah, overall at least. My father passed away a few years back, but I’m close with my mother and sister. Lucky to have them. I’ve got a brother as well, and it’s not as if we don’t really get along… well I guess we don’t really. We don’t talk much is all, haven’t been close since we were little.”

It wasn’t perfect, Thomas understood that, but he could never help but be jealous of people who had family. Even after all this time without one, that empty spot still remained in his chest.

“I’ve got five nieces as well,” Mr. Ellis continued after a moment, “I got to spend some time with the older two when they were little, had more time off then, but the little ones barely know me. That was another reason I came here I suppose, to try and be around more while they’re young. I guess it sounds soppy, they’re not my own children, but I don’t have children of my own.”

“I think it’s lovely,” Thomas said sincerely. Mr. Ellis smiled softly at him then, a blush dusting his cheeks.

oOo

A little while later, Mrs. Baxter came to join them, sitting down to darn a few socks and join their conversation. Thomas had long since put away the crossword, and Mr. Ellis’ book on wine was sitting lonely on the table. At the opposite end of the table, the younger members of the staff were moving their game outside. It was a nice evening out and Michael smoked more than Thomas ever had at that age. 

It was just the three of them then, and the hall was suddenly a lot quieter.

“Mr. Ellis,” Mrs. Baxter started, “Are you ever going to let us hear you play?” she asked, nodding towards the piano against the wall.

“It’s been so long, I don’t know anything just out of memory anymore. I’ll have to buy some music, I suppose.”

“I think there is some old music in the cabinet there,” Thomas said, and it turned out he was right.

Mr. Ellis rummaged in the cabinet by the piano for a moment before pulling out some loose sheet music and two piano books, “This is mostly ragtime,” he said flipping through the pages, “I never was good enough to play that..” He looked down at the second book though and his eyes lit up, “Oh Christmas Carols! Well I can definitely play that.”

Mr. Ellis sat down on the bench and flipped open the first page. Lips pressed together in concentration, he began to slowly play “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” He made it through without many mistakes and then sat back to look at the music thoughtfully, “I always was better at singing along the playing…”

“It wasn’t bad,” Thomas said honestly, “Though a little off for August.”

Richard laughed at that, his joyful eyes crinkling around the corners, “You’re stuck with it now,” he said gleefully before launching into it again, this time singing along in a warm baritone. His voice was smooth and rich, and even for such a simple song, it sent shivers up Thomas’ arms.

Mrs. Baxter joined in softly, and Thomas was happy to just sit and listen, biting down a grin, but Mr. Ellis turned and looked and him pointedly, and he couldn’t say no to those sparkling eyes. It was quite a sight, he was sure, three grown adults singing slowly along to an old carol on a late August evening when all of them should really be asleep, but he was very sure he wouldn’t ever forget it.


	4. Chapter 4

Richard got his first time off two weeks in. It was really only supposed to be a half day, but Lady Mary and her Ladyship were both under the weather, so the house was quiet. Mr. Barrow told him to enjoy it while he had it and sent him off around eight in the morning, much earlier than he could have anticipated. 

He headed down to the train station to try and catch a train to York, but when the next one wasn’t until the afternoon, he sat outside waving down all the trucks and wagons to see where they were headed. Not too long afterwards he found a vegetable farmer with his cart loaded up headed to Harrogate, and he figured he could try his luck again once there. 

It was a stunning day, with breezy clouds and a warmth touching everything, and he enjoyed the ride. He hadn’t done something like this since before he moved to London, and he’d forgotten how much he enjoyed it, even if it wasn’t always the fastest way to travel. As they passed the rolling verdant hills full of emerald hedges and scatterings of sheep, he talked to the farmer about his recent move and the farmer talked about the recent birth of his new grandson, and Richard began to feel his heartbeat slow down to match the rhythms of the country.

Once in Harrogate, the ordeal started over, though this time he was able to catch a ride in an old car, making the journey faster. He finally arrived in York just paste eleven. It wasn’t as early as he would have liked, but it was earlier than his original plan, so he decided not to be bothered by it. Down through the center of town and then off down one of the cobbled side roads, he eventually made it to the quieter corner of town where he had grown up.

His mother greeted him at the door, looking delighted to see him. She seemed better than when he had last seen her, and although he knew that could change at the drop of the hat, he was glad to see it. 

“I wasn’t expecting you so early, but I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, pulling him into the house and then into her arms. He had to bend way down to wrap his arms around her, and she felt so fragile, but her eyes still held the same determination they always had.

“Hi mum, I’m glad to be home, too.” It felt strange really, being home so soon. He was used to only visiting a couple time a year, if that, but he thought he could really get used to this more often.

“You must have had quite the journey already this morning, your hair is all blown away,” she reached up with her hand, and Richard bent his head down for her to smooth down his now flyaway hair, “Everyone else won’t be here until dinnertime, but I want to hear about your new job now. Why don’t you get settled and I’ll make us some tea?”

“I can make it mum,” he replied smiling, setting his hat and overcoat on the rack by the door and making his way towards the kitchen.

It was on days like this when he almost wished he had never left at all, though he knew that was foolish to think. Children are made to grow up and build their own lives but watching the sunlight stream through the kitchen window in the same way that it had when he was a boy made him melancholy. As he waited for the water to boil, he put some biscuits on a plate and then watched the laundry sway in the wind. Caroline must have come by to help Mum, he though. He wasn’t sure she could do those things alone anymore, and it made him feel a little guilty, leaving his siblings to take care of Mum most of the time.

Back in the sitting room, Mum quizzed about life at Downton and he told her that he enjoyed it. He was ready for a slower pace, at least in comparison to London as service was never slow. She knew all of that of course, before marrying Da she had been a housemaid at an old house in York. Caroline and Whitney had done service for a time as well; it had become a sort of family tradition, though he was the only one who never left. He never married and never had any better opportunities.

As Richard told her about Andy and Daisy and Michael and the housemaids that swooned after him daily, his mother smiled, but when he talked about Mrs. Baxter and Mr. Barrow, she patted his hand.

“I’m glad you’ll have people there who you might call friends. I worry about you getting lonely.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said softly, “I’ll be sad when Mr. Barrow goes, I’m afraid.”

“He lives in town, doesn’t he? Surely you could still see him.”

“I suppose, though there won’t be much time.”

“People manage to make time for plenty of less important things than friendship, Richard.”

Richard smiled back at her, though he still wasn’t sure he believed that Mr. Barrow and he would really stay in touch after he left, living in town or not. He had been meaning to ask her about another thing though, “Mum, do you have any sheet music I could borrow? There’s a piano in the servant’s hall, and I’m trying to learn to play again.”

Her face lit up at that; she had been the one to teach his siblings and him music all those years back and had always wanted them to continue playing. “Of course I do, you know that. What music do you want to play?”

“Something easy for now,” he chuckled.

She set her teacup town and got up slowly, making her way into the back room of the house where the piano stood against the wall. There was music overflowing from the shelf in the corner, loose sheets falling from old books and folders. 

“Caroline went through these a couple months back, so I’m not sure what’s left, but surely there’s plenty.”

She rummaged around for quite a while, pulling out different books and flipping through them before eventually handing him a small stack or Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach’s simpler works as well as a whole hymnal of the church hymns he remembers practicing as a child. 

“I’m not sure if you’re interested in these, but they’ll be good to practice on for the time being.”

“They’ll work, thanks mum.”

oOo

In the evening, the rest of the family arrived in time for dinner, and the house was suddenly buzzing with life. Caroline had arrived first with her husband Artie and their three girls. The oldest, Ruthie, immediately ran to greet him while the younger Alice and Lillian said hello to their grandmother and then hurried out to the back garden to check the fairy house they’d build last time. While the younger two were spitting images of Caroline, with wavy blonde hair and huge blue eyes, Ruthie looked much more like her father with brown hair. At eleven, she was just starting to really grow and always complained about being the tallest of her age in school, and even though she didn’t look like her mother, Richard could tell she had her personality. Ruthie wasn’t afraid to speak her mind or direct her sisters around, and it always made Richard laugh to watch Caroline trying to make her behave, as he knew it was useless. After Ruthie ran out to join her sisters, Richard shook hands with Artie and the was engulfed in a hug by Caroline.

“I’m so glad you’re home so soon!” She beamed, “I hope you like your new position in Downton, because I’m never letting you leave!”

Whitney and his wife and daughters arrived next, and they couldn’t be more different from Caroline’s. Little Evelyn couldn’t do much more than toddle around at this point, but she was always wrapped around one of her parents’ legs or curled up in their lap, and at the age of eight, June wasn’t much louder. She had always been the shy one out of the bunch, and Richard had a terrible soft spot for her. 

When Richard greeted them, June gave him the tiniest smile, and he counted that as a victory. “Your cousins are out in the garden looking for fairies,” he said, and she didn’t have much time to ponder that before Ruthie rushed back in, squealed, and pulled June out to the garden with her whether she had wanted to go or not. Whitney’s wife Laura helped Evelyn toddle out to meet them and then sat to watch them play, leaving the rest of the adults in the sitting room to watch from out the window.

“Do they ever get tired of not finding any fairies?” Richard mused.

“Lillian is sure she’s seen one.”

“Oh, really?” Richard laughed.

“I’m not sure if she actually thinks she saw one or just wants all the girls to believe that she has, but she’s been very adamant. She said it was small and blue. I’m sure she’ll be glad to tell you about it later,” Caroline chuckled.

“Of course. I’ll have to ask.”

oOo

Dinner was lovely. Lillian told him all about her blue fairy, Alice cried over not wanting to eat bread without jam, and Ruthie sat next to June, making silly faces at her when she thought her mother wasn’t looking to try and make June laugh. Mum didn’t say much the whole meal, but she was absolutely glowing, pleased as punch to have her whole family over for dinner. He talked to Caroline and Artie about his new position in much of the same way he told his mum earlier, and even though Whitney didn’t say much, he gave Richard a nod to keep talking when he thought he’d gone on long enough.

Afterwards, the three younger girls were asleep on the sofa while Ruthie and June sat with adults, giggling over something in the corner.

Whitney sat down next to him for the first time all evening and caught his eye, “Mum said you’re playing the piano again.”

“I’m trying.”

He nodded and was quiet for a moment before speaking again, “Are you singing still?”

“Sometimes. Mum said you’d stopped singing in the choir on Sundays.”

“Laura was having trouble keeping Evelyn and June quiet during the service, though I could help better in the pews than in the choir.”

“I’m sure she wasn’t having trouble with June,” Richard smiled at him tentatively and he let out a small laugh.

“No, not June. But Evelyn loves to cry in church. I miss it though, think I might join up again soon.”

Caroline joined in the conversation then, “You could sing for us now, and Richard could play.”

“Not with you around,” Richard teased, “you’ll never let me live it down if I mess up.”

“I will not, I’ll be nice,” she pouted, suddenly sounding very much like her older daughter in the corner.

“You will, too, and you know it.”

“Fine, then I’ll play and the two of you can sing, just like old times.”

Whitney nodded and so Richard did too. Caroline made her way over to the piano and picked out a song they had all used to sing in church, “For the Beauty of the Earth.”

Whitney began the first verse, his clear tenor voice ringing out in the small room. Ever since they first started singing together, Richard had always been jealous of his voice, but their mother had always told them they were made for harmony. He wished that were truer. He joined in on the second verse and soon so did Mum and everyone else. Ruthie joined in halfway through as well, not entirely in the right key but with much enthusiasm. June was less sure, but when Whitney picked her up into his lap and sang the tune into her ear, even she sang quietly. It was moments like these where Richard felt his heart ache and feel full at the same time, wondering how everything that pushed them apart lead them all back together like this again.

oOo

It was dark out when everyone started to pack up and leave. He would take the milk train back early in the morning, so he stayed back with their mum. On her way out, Caroline turned back to him, Lillian fast asleep in her arms, “It was nice to hear Whitney and you sing again. I know mother was delighted and so was I.”

“It was nice, actually.”

“He’s really trying, Richard,” she said then, a kind of pained look in her eyes.

He hadn’t been sure, not really, but seeing her face and picturing Whitney’s expression earlier, he said softly, “I think I know.”


	5. Chapter 5

Thomas had thought about alternating his half days with Mr. Ellis, but when he brought the idea up to Lady Mary, she said that she’d rather have no butler at all for an afternoon than just Mr. Ellis until he was sufficiently trained. Thomas thought this was silly, Mr. Ellis was learning quickly, but he wasn’t going to argue with her, and frankly he wanted his half day as scheduled. 

He headed on to the main road where his shop was, or would soon be, and let himself in through the boarded-up front door. He had bought a sign, just a simple “Barrow’s Clockworks” but hadn’t put it up front yet nor taken off the boards on the front windows. Until he was fully ready to open, he didn’t like the idea of the shop windows looking to inviting while he couldn’t watch over them. 

Each time he had come for the last month, he had spent practically the whole day cleaning, sweeping away all the grime and dust that seemed to accumulate so quickly. It felt ridiculous to clean the whole shop each time he visited just for it to be as he had first found it by the time he came again, so today he resolved not to bother too much with cleaning and to actually start making it look like a real shop.

He had ordered parts from York and Manchester, and even a few from London, and so he spent most of the afternoon sorting out the small cogs and delicate glass plates and shiny gold chains into their respective drawers in the back and then looking through them all again to make sure he had what he needed. Thomas had spent almost all of his savings on this, and by the time he ordered his last few parts, he knew he wouldn’t have but a penny to his name. He figured he wouldn’t be eating much of anything until he made his first repair or sale, yet the thought didn’t frighten him like it probably should have, so glad to soon be on his own two feet.

The quiet of the shop unnerved him a bit, as he was used to the constant noise of the downstairs of the abbey, but he thought he might invest in a wireless eventually. Sitting alone, sorting out the various metal instruments, he did begin to feel a tad melancholy. He’d enjoyed his last few weeks. Mr. Ellis brought a new shine to life downstairs, no doubt about it, and it made him feel rather like when he first arrived at Downton, eager to please and eager to find a friend. There wasn’t a way for Mr. Ellis and him both to remain there full-time however, so he would just have to hope that once of the clocks in the great house fell on hard times or that Mr. Ellis broke his watch. He thought he should have felt guilty for thinking that, but he didn’t really.

oOo

The sky was just beginning to turn grey with light when Thomas left the cottage and headed for Downton. As he made his way up the path, he spotted a figure in the distance with a light jacket slung over his shoulder. He couldn’t make out who it was at first until the man tipped his hat and he saw it was Mr. Ellis.

“Good morning, Mr. Barrow.”

“Good morning, you stayed the night in York?”

“Stayed for dinner at my mum’s then took the milk train up this morning,” he said, and Thomas could hear the tiredness in his voice.

“I hope you had a nice evening.”

“I did, thank you.”

“I sure won’t miss getting up this early in the future,” Thomas grumbled aloud as they both made their way towards the house.

“Not planning to sell clocks at six in the morning then?” Mr. Ellis teased.

“If the men in Downton have made it this long without needing a watch repair at the crack of dawn, I think they can manage to wait a little longer.”

They walked in silence for a while longer until they were just cresting the hill towards the house when Mr. Ellis asked, “How are Lady Grantham and Lady Mary, still under the weather?”

“Worse I’m afraid. The doctor came by in the afternoon and said it looks to be an early case of influenza but not to worry too much. There’s nothing much to do but wait it out anyhow, though I think they’re quite miserable.”

“At least it’ll be quiet around the house, though hopefully it doesn’t spread.”

oOo

Against Mr. Ellis’ wishes, it did spread.

Thomas felt like the staff was crumbling around him. One of the younger housemaids got it first, and from there it spread to another and then to Michael and a hall-boy and lastly Mr. Ellis. Thomas felt lucky to not be living in the attic with everyone.

Mr. Ellis began to feel ill just as those upstairs seemed to be on the uptick, and Thomas could see in Mr. Ellis’ eyes the resignation as he came down to breakfast cheeks flushed with fever and looking shaky on his feet.

“You’re not going to do the Crawley’s any good like that, Mr. Ellis,” Mrs. Baxter said softly, “Why don’t you have some breakfast and then go have a rest.”

Mr. Ellis nodded, looking regretfully at Thomas, “Sorry Mr. Barrow. I’ll try to at least study up on dinner wines while I’m in bed.”

“It’s alright,” he sighed, not wanting Mr. Ellis to feel guilty but exhausted himself from the extra workload of having to cover for so many other members of the staff, “Rest well.” 

“I’ll bring you up something to eat later, Mr. Ellis,” Mrs. Baxter said and so Mr. Ellis retreated up to his room, making his way slowly up the stairs.

Thomas wasn’t particularly worried. Everyone else had suffered through a few days of fever and chills and muscle aches and then had been more tired than usual but otherwise fine.

Mr. Ellis, however, proved himself to be an outlier.

oOo

He went by his room the next morning, and after not receiving any answer to his knock, pushed open the door to find Mr. Ellis very much asleep and looking worse than the day before. He felt odd standing in his doorway, however, not feeling nearly familiar enough to do such a thing, and so he left and told Lady Mary that Mr. Ellis would once again not be serving at meals, to which she just sighed heavily and kept eating her breakfast.

oOo

By the afternoon of the third day, he had begun to miss Mr. Ellis’ company. He wondered how he had survived the doldrum of Downton before Mr. Ellis’ witty banter and smiling eyes. Although he had been by Mr. Ellis’ room twice more, he’d only been awake once, and just barely. He hadn’t been up for much conversation past a few niceties and looked incredibly ill, so Thomas had tried to leave him be. This time upon entering his room however, he found Mrs. Baxter sitting in the corner reading a book.

He stopped in surprise at the door, not expecting her and not sure if he should continue in or leave her with him. Sensing his discomfort, Mrs. Baxter put down her book and motioned to the chair next to her, “I thought it must feel awful being so sick in a new place.”

Thomas had thought the same thing the day before, and as he looked at Mr. Ellis, he felt a kind of tightening in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He knew he shouldn’t care this much, be he tried to push the feeling down. Mr. Ellis didn’t deserve to be lusted after by the likes of Thomas in general, but especially not while fighting off a fever.

After a few moments of sitting silently, Mr. Baxter turned to him and spoke even softer, “Do you think he looks worse?”

The uncertainty in her voice worried him, she was usually so assured, so steady. As he looked at Mr. Ellis, he could see where her concern came from. Where his cheeks had been flushed before, now his whole face shone with the slight sheen of a feverish sweat and the sandy hair that was usually so elegantly swept back from his face was now stuck to his forehead.

When Thomas didn’t reply, unsure of what to say, Mrs. Baxter got up from her chair, “I’ll get him another cool compress. I’m don’t think they’ve been helping, but I’m not sure of what else to do.”

Thomas nodded to her and then turned back to Mr. Ellis, a knot of worry beginning to tie itself tight in Thomas’ stomach.


	6. Chapter 6

At first, they thought his fever had broken. Mr. Ellis began to mumble in his sleep, and they thought he might be slipping back towards consciousness, but it became quickly clear that his ramblings were not at all coherent. He seemed to be overtaken by feverish hallucinations.

A feeling of complete concern had lodged itself deeply into Thomas’ chest by this point, and the rest of the staff seemed to sense it, too. Breakfast had become quieter and evenings shorter as everyone went back to their respective rooms without much distraction, feeling the tension hanging throughout the downstairs. It was odd really, how quickly dynamics could change. Mr. Ellis had only just arrived weeks before, and yet it seemed everyone already felt his presence keenly when it was gone, or at least felt the responsibility to act accordingly. 

Daisy made the same simple soup that she had fed to all the ill before Mr. Ellis, but as his fever worsened, even she began to look concerned every time she brought him a new bowl, all of which would have gone untouched had Mrs. Baxter not sat with him and helped him drink a couple times of day. 

Mrs. Baxter seemed to have really grown fond of Mr. Ellis, and his sickness only seemed to magnify it. Although Thomas was fonder of him than he’d like to admit, he felt uncomfortable sitting with him, like he was prying into something he shouldn’t, seeing too much of a private side. Mrs. Baxter appeared not to have these worries, however. She’d always had a warm heart, he knew all too well, but something about the way she pushed his hair back from his forehead or pulled the blankets tight around his shoulders made him wonder how quickly a heart could heal. He wondered, too, if Mr. Ellis and Mrs. Baxter might in the future become the new Mr. and Mrs. Carson, but then he felt guilty for thinking that when Mr. Ellis was in such a vulnerable state and felt guiltier still for the slight sting of jealousy it brought into his throat. 

With Mr. Ellis’ hallucinations however, all other thoughts quickly were left out to dry. Mrs. Baxter seemed to realize the real seriousness of the situation at the same time he did, and when he looked up into her now almost panicked eyes, he felt the grounding rush of fear and adrenaline.

“We need to call the doctor,” he said firmly.

She nodded in agreement, but just as she began to get up from where she was sitting next to the bed, Mr. Ellis began to moan feverishly in his sleep, “No, no, no, no…”

Mrs. Baxter sat back down and ran a hand up and down his arm, “It’s alright, we’ll get you help. We’ll get you better. The doctor will help.”

Mr. Ellis’ fever seemed to be blending truth and reality into some kind of nightmare, and his agitation only increased. He began scratching at the sheets, trying to throw them off, and his protestations only increased, “Please, no, no…”

Mrs. Baxter looked at him for help, and he went over to the bed as well, feeling suddenly as though he were back during the war at the Downton hospital, waking patients from their nightmares and trying to talk others out of a shell-shocked haze.

“Mr. Ellis, there’s nothing to worry about. You’re going to be alright. We’ve just got to get your fever down,” Thomas told him, trying to sound reassuring, but Mr. Ellis only started to cry then, still tangling himself further in the sheets, and Thomas’ wasn’t sure what more he could do. It wasn’t just like a nightmare where you could shake a man awake, Mr. Ellis’ mind was so fogged with sickness it was playing tricks on him. “Why don’t you go and call the doctor? I’ll stay with him,” Thomas said eventually, and Mrs. Baxter stood quickly, her face tight, and ran down the stairs.

Thomas watched Mr. Ellis, his face now shining with tears, and it felt intensely private, intrusive. He reached out with the cool cloth to try and clean the salty tears from under his eyes, but when the cloth touched his face, he flinched back violently. Thomas kept his hand hovered over Mr. Ellis’ face and then tried again, but Mr. Ellis rolled away and tucked his knees up to his chest, so Thomas bit his lip and gave up.

When Mrs. Baxter returned, saying that the doctor would be by in half an hour, she gripped her hand around his forearm, and he wasn’t sure at that point whether the comfort was more for him or herself.

oOo

When the doctor arrived, Mr. Ellis’ state only worsened. As the doctor felt his forehead and pulse, Mr. Ellis’ entire body shook, and his breathing was ragged and too fast. The doctor didn’t have much to say; he couldn’t do much but give them a bottle of aspirin and tell them to keep applying compresses. They would just have to wait it out and hope the fever broke soon.

oOo

Lady Mary came by that afternoon, apparently then sufficiently worried to warrant a trip up to the attic. By then, Mr. Ellis had luckily calmed down and fallen into a deep sleep, but Mrs. Baxter still tried to stop her at the door, warning of both contagion and Mr. Ellis’ unfit state, but she persisted, both Mrs. Baxter and him too exhausted by this point to put up much of a fight.

“Oh dear..” she said breathily, looking at his slim form silhouetted by the cotton sheets, “Is he going to make it?” she asked gravely.

Until that point, Thomas really hadn’t thought that Mr. Ellis might not make it, and he felt a shiver run through his entire body at that suggestion, but Mrs. Baxter was firm as ever, “He will,” she said, “His fever must come down thought.”

oOo  
Thomas didn’t sleep much that night. He went back to his cottage to try and rest for a few hours, but he wasn’t very successful, mind swimming with the images of Mr. Ellis thrashing around in a fevered haze. Just past three, he slipped his clothes back on and walked quickly through the darkness back to the abbey to give Mrs. Baxter a rest.

He found her just as she had been most of the afternoon, with a chair pulled up close to Mr. Ellis’ bed, fingers twirling around knots of deep green wool as she knitted to stay awake. She looked grateful to see him and got up so he could take her place. As he sat down, she gripped his hand and whispered quietly into the dark, “I think his fever has broken.”

Thomas reached out and felt his forehead, and indeed it was cooler than it had been the past few days. His breathing sounded more even as well, peaceful really. He bade Mrs. Baxter a good night and let himself breathe a little deeper as he sat watch, feeling the tightness in his chest begin to untangle a little.

He watched the summer sun slowly turn the sky from shades of deep navy to grey and finally to blue as the sun stretched out finally over the green horizon, and as the first spots of real light hit the floor of Mr. Ellis’ room, he began to stir under the blanket. 

He blinked open his eyes, and Thomas watched him silently, not wanting to disturb him while he wasn’t yet what kind of a state he was in. Mr. Ellis seemed to take a moment to get his bearings straight, but after a few seconds he looked up at Thomas and blinked confusedly.

He opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, but all that came out was a horse cough. Thomas put out a hand to tell him to wait, “I’ll get you some water,” he said quietly, and got up to fill a glass for him in the bathroom sink.

When he came back into the room, Mr. Ellis had sat up in beg, his legs swung over the side. He looked at Thomas gratefully and slowly sipped the water, looking exhausted and pale and embarrassed. Thomas tried not to make his embarrassment worse by staring, so he looked down at his own clasped hands resting in his lap until Mr. Ellis set the glass down on the side table.

“You gave us quite the fright, Mr. Ellis.”

Mr. Ellis frowned and ran a hand through his hair, “sorry,” he said, sounding miserable, and then chuckled self-deprecatingly, “I’ve a knack for that I’m afraid.”

Thomas could admit that he had a knack for it as well, but he doubted Mr. Ellis meant it in quite the same way. Mr. Ellis looked up at him and made eye contact, and he must have seen his confused expression, because he shrugged a little and continued, “I was always sick as a child, got every childhood sickness there was it seemed. Gave my mum a fright each time.”

“A cat with nine lives then,” Thomas said and then wished he hadn’t, feeling stupid, but Mr. Ellis just chuckled again.

“More than nine by this point probably… but yeah, I don’t much want to get taken out by a fever if I have to go.” 

The silence stretched on then, and Thomas thought he should leave, give the man some peace and space now that he’d crossed the worst part, but Mr. Ellis spoke again, fidgety, “You looked after me this whole time then? I remember you were here… a few days ago? I’ve no idea how long it’s been.”

“A few days, and it was Mrs. Baxter mostly. I’m sure she’ll come by when she’s awake.”

Mr. Ellis was looking at him so deeply then he found he had to look away. “Thank you,” he said softly, sincerely, “I’ll make sure to thank her when I see her as well.”

Thomas nodded and got up then, “I’ll leave you to sleep.”

“I should get back to work soon. I’m sure I’ve already missed quite enough.”

“Don’t be daft, you’re not working today,” Thomas replied, incredulous, and Mr. Ellis gave him a thankful smile, “They’ll be plenty time for that later, I assure you.”


	7. Chapter 7

Richard couldn’t remember much of the last few days, and what he could, he wasn’t sure if it was real or a dream. He felt embarrassed, too, to have been seen in such a state, especially having just been at the household a month, but neither Mrs. Baxter nor Mr. Barrow made much of a fuss about it, so he decided he’d better not be the one to start.

He stayed in bed all that morning, but by late afternoon he became so bored that even though he was still sore and exhausted, he got dressed and made his way downstairs to the butler’s pantry where he found Mr. Barrow at the desk.

“Is there anything I can do to keep busy?”

“You should be resting, Mr. Ellis.”

“Please, dear God, I’m dying of boredom,” Richard said dramatically.

“You’ll die of something more than that if you’re not careful.”

Richard choked and then laughed incredulously, “You are something, Mr. Barrow. But truly, please. I promise I won’t go upstairs; I recognize I’m in no state to serve, but I’ll even do the books.”

Mr. Barrow looked at him incredulously then. He knew how much Richard disliked bookkeeping, but he eventually set the ledgers out anyway on the opposite side of the desk and motioned for Richard to sit.

“Thanks,” he smiled as charmingly as he could at then set to work.

He managed to be quite productive despite his tired state and since he wasn’t serving dinner or drinks, he had all evening to look over the books and the schedules for the upcoming weeks. After feeling like he’d accomplished a good amount, he put the books away and went out to the servant’s hall to practice the piano some before everyone came back from dinner. He pulled out one of the easier pieces his mum had given him and set to work learning it.

He quickly realized it was still more difficult than he had expected and found himself repeating the introductory measures over and over again to try and get his fingers used to the rhythms. He stopped for a while once the footmen returned, not wanting to annoy them with his repetitions, but once they seemed caught up in their books and card games, he went back to it, until he felt a presence behind him and heard the good-humored drawl of Mr. Barrow.

“Are you going to play that part all night then?” he smirked.

“How else is a man to learn?”

Mr. Barrow shrugged, “Since you’re still up, would you care to join Mrs. Baxter and me for tea?”

“Of course,” Richard smiled, putting away the music and following him to Mrs. Baxter’s sitting room.

Mrs. Baxter’s eyes warmed as she saw him and she got up to get a third teacup, obviously not having expected him to still be out of bed. “I’m glad to see you looking better, Mr. Ellis. It hasn’t been quite the same without you.”

“Mr. Ellis has been participating in some kind of ancient meditative ritual it seems,” Mr. Barrow told Mrs. Baxter, “It seems to involve playing the same line of music over and over again until everyone around you loses their mind.”

Richard laughed, “I heard it helps with the healing.”

Mrs. Baxter looked between them and then shook her head, but he could see that she was smiling as well. 

“Who taught you to play, Mr. Ellis?”

“My mum. She made both my siblings and me learn. My sister Caroline was the only one to really take to it, even teaches piano now in York, but my brother and I were never quite as enthusiastic.”

“You prefer singing,” she said knowingly.

“Yes, my brother and I both. It was really the thing we always had in common. Both of us were choristers actually in York.” Both Mrs. Baxter and Mr. Barrow looked at him with great surprise, and he chuckled, “Even went to the choral school together at York Minster.”

Mr. Barrow was still looking at him with a mix of surprise and wonder, “York Minster to the Royal Household, you’ve always been one for great things haven’t you Mr. Ellis?”

He could feel himself blush, “I was never incredible. They let me go after my voice changed. Baritones come a dime a dozen. My brother was able to stay, though, and at the time I was terribly jealous. Seemed like one more thing where I was slighted, and he was spared.”

“Being the youngest often leads to heartache I imagine,” Mrs. Baxter said, but Richard just hummed noncommittedly in response.

The conversation diverged from there back to the subject of the day’s work, and Richard didn’t have much to say, not having worked in almost a week, so he just sipped at his tea and listened. He liked watching Mrs. Baxter and Mr. Barrow. Both of them were much different around each other than they were with the other staff members. Mr. Barrow was more relaxed around staff members that had been around for a long time like Daisy and Andy, but with Mrs. Baxter that sense of ease seemed to increase tenfold, and Richard had a feeling it reached deeper than just working closely together but it didn’t seem to be romantic at all either. Mrs. Baxter often reached out and touched his arm or hand when she talked to him and often slipped and called him by his Christian name “Thomas” without either of them seeming to notice. It made Richard wonder if he would ever feel like that with someone in the house.

oOo

As Richard and Mr. Barrow headed out from Mrs. Baxter’s sitting room that evening, neither of them said anything. Richard could hear Mr. Barrow humming slightly under his breath as he put his coat and hat on and after a moment Richard recognized the tune.

“Are you going to hum that part all night then?” Richard teased.

Mr. Barrow looked up at him confused for only a second before seeming to realize himself what he’d been humming and then they both burst out in laughter. Mr. Barrow’s eyes shown in the dark corridor and Richard could feel his shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Go to bed, Mr. Ellis,” Mr. Barrow said smiling, “You’ll wear yourself out.”


	8. Chapter 8

The next week passed in a blur. It took Richard a few days to get over his exhaustion, and then he was off and running again. By the start of the next week, Mr. Barrow had basically given him all the main responsibilities and was himself just filling in with the more superfluous tasks since he was still around. 

All too soon, however, as they sat with Mrs. Baxter Friday evening, Mr. Barrow announced, “Lady Mary thinks you’re ready to take full command, Mr. Ellis.”

Richard didn’t know that he was ready, but he also knew that he wouldn’t really find out until it happened, “And you agree?” he asked.

“I think you’ll do a good job,” Thomas gave him a bemused smile, “The Royal Household didn’t hire you for nothing it seems.”

“You’ll be gone Sunday, then?” Mrs. Baxter asked, looking suddenly very melancholy.

“I will. I’ll finish getting the shop ready on Monday and then plan to open up on Tuesday.”

“The house really won’t be the same without you, Thomas.”

“Now then, don’t be silly. I’ll just be down the road,” Mr. Barrow smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Still, you know what I mean.”

“You’re welcome to break one of the clocks anytime and have me come round to mend it.”

Mrs. Baxter laughed and looked down at her lap, “I’m afraid you’ll just have to put up with me clock in hand or not.”

“The Crawleys said they would stop by on Tuesday to see the opening, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too presumptuous to join them.”

“I just might ask,” Mrs. Baxter replied, a small sparkle back in her eyes.

oOo

Richard found himself feeling terribly melancholy all the next day, but he tried not to show it. He felt he had no real right to feel so downtrodden when everyone else in the house had known Mr. Barrow for so long. The whole downstairs did seem in a slightly depressed, however, so Richard thought he might just manage to fit in.

After a full day of meals and teas and chores and Mr. Barrow checking to make sure he knew how to do every last thing, Richard found himself out in the courtyard late in the evening, wanting to get a breath of fresh air before bed.

As soon as he stepped out, he realized that he wasn’t alone.

“I thought you’d gone home?” Richard asked the figure standing against the brick wall, having a smoke.

“Didn’t want to leave quite yet, thought I’d just take it all in for a moment,” Mr. Barrow paused, “Is that silly?”

“No,” Richard said sincerely and then let the silence linger for a moment, “You’ve never worked anywhere else, you said?”

“Nothing that counted.”

“Then it must feel particularly odd.” Richard sat down on the bench against the wall, and Mr. Barrow did the same, resting his chin in his hand and looking out into the purple twilight, “Mrs. Baxter’s right, it’ll feel strange not having you around.”

“Soon enough you won’t know the difference,” Mr. Barrow sighed.

“Yes, I will.”

Mr. Barrow didn’t reply to that, just stubbed out his cigarette on the ground. After a moment, though, he looked over at Richard, chin still resting in his hand, eyes wide in the darkness, “Are you happy here, Mr. Ellis?”

“I think I am. More so than anywhere else I’ve worked, I suppose.”

“I’m glad,” Mr. Barrow said quietly.

“Were you happy here?”

Mr. Barrow took a long time to respond, and it felt as if everything had begun to slow down, the conversation spinning into something much more personal than he’d intended. “At one point I would have said no, that I was miserable, but I think for quite a while now I’ve been rather content. When the Crawley children were still in the house, I was… especially glad to be here.”

“But not happy, per se?” Richard bit the inside of his cheek, not meaning to have asked such a probing question

Mr. Barrow looked down at his hands and then up at the sky and sighed, “I don’t know that I’ve ever been truly happy, Mr. Ellis.”

Richard couldn’t think of a response to that, so he didn’t say anything at all, just nodded and sat with the other man in contemplation for a while.

After a moment, Richard thought to change the subject, “Mrs. Baxter said she’d known you before Downton.”

“She was a friend of my sister’s when we were children.”

“Oh,” Richard said, surprised, “That’s rather a good coincidence.”

“I hated it at first, but now I… frankly don’t know what I would have done without her here.”

“Why did you hate it?”

“My sister and I had a falling out, years ago – I thought she would be the same.”

“I’m sorry,” Richard said, and he meant it, knowing from experience what it was like to experience that kind of betrayal, but it still sounded hollow when he said it aloud, and Mr. Barrow just shrugged,

“Was to be expected I suppose.”

“What do you mean?” he asked not expecting that answer, but Mr. Barrow looked away and pulled out another cigarette. Richard didn’t want to pry and left it alone.

Trying to change the subject once again to lighter subjects, Richard nudged Mr. Barrow slightly with his shoulder, “You’re ready for Tuesday, then?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“I’d like to stop by.”

“I’d be glad if you did,” Mr. Barrow said sincerely.

“Not tired of me yet?”

“No, not at all, Mr. Ellis,” he replied, and Richard suddenly felt his heartbeat quite keenly in his throat.

“If we’re no longer to be working together, I think you should just call me Richard.”

Mr. Barrow raised his eyebrows, “Should I?”

Richard could feel himself blush and looked away, not wanting to make things suspicious in any kind of way, “I’d like you to. I’d like to consider myself your friend, Mr. Barrow.”

“Alright,” he said, taking a long drag of his cigarette, “You’d better call me Thomas then.”


	9. Chapter 9

Once he tied up all the loose ends, leaving Downton was easier than he thought it would be, and Tuesday came around quicker than he expected. He supposed he really hadn’t had time to fully process the change, and yet at the same time he’d had months. He was mostly sorry to leave the other staff, but he had reassured himself and been reassured by them in turn that he was only a jaunt away.

After the quiet of spending Monday by himself in the shop, he was hopeful that Tuesday would bring more life to the space and the people of Downton would actually need new watches or old ones repaired. 

As soon as he unlocked the front door in the morning and wiped the windows clean, people started looking in as they passed by, some even stopping to take a peek at the various timepieces he had set just inside the window.

Finally, a man stopped in and took off his hat, “Good morning, sir, you do repairs?”

“Of course. What’ve you got?” It felt odd to be called “sir.”

“Just this old thing,” he said, taking out a pocket watch, “The glass has been cracked for a while,” and just like that, Thomas was a craftsman.

Only one more person found their way in that morning, but Thomas was still pleased for it being his first day. Right after lunch, however, he looked up to find the whole Crawley entourage entering the store.

“Barrow!” Lord Grantham boomed into the still space, “What a wonderful shop you have!”

“Thank you, Milord, it’s wonderful of all of you to stop in.”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Cora cooed as Mary rolled her eyes.

“Is business going well, Barrow?” Mary asked.

“Well enough for the first day, I suppose.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

The whole group stayed for a little while, poking and prodding their way through the store, Lord Grantham asking a plethora of questions about the selection of men’s pocket watches as the ladies looked slightly bored. In the end, he ended up buying the only silver watch Thomas had on display, which Thomas was quite sure he didn’t need, but he appreciated the gesture anyways. It was much more money than he had been expecting to make.

“After such a long period of service in our house, it’s the least I can do.”

It was among the least things he could probably do, the cynical side of Thomas thought, but just as he was having that thought, Mary piped up, “Oh, I just remembered that I talked to dear George yesterday, and he wanted to wish you well,” and suddenly Thomas didn’t feel quite so cynical.

oOo

It wasn’t so long after that a small group of the downstairs staff arrived for a quick visit.

“We’ve not got long, Mr. Barrow,” Daisy declared, “But we didn’t want to miss it. Other than Mr. Ellis arriving, this is the most interesting thing that has happened downstairs in ages. A butler becoming a clockmaker – I’d have said it’d outrageous if I wasn’t seeing it myself!”

As the rest of the staff piddled around much as the Crawleys had, Phyllis and Richard came to see him at the counter, both smiling at him in a way that made him want to look away in embarrassment.

“A true businessman you are, now, Thomas,” Richard smiled at him. It was still odd to hear his Christian name spoken so freely by the man, but it thrilled him at the same time.

“I’m not sure about that quite yet..” He said humbly.

“Oh hush, Thomas. You’ll do quite well, I’m sure of it. Knowing you, you’ll work twice as hard as any of the other clockmakers in England.” Mrs. Baxter said, patting his arm

“But you’d better watch out for the ones in Scotland and Wales,” Richard quipped, grinning, and Thomas finally felt himself relax. “I’m afraid I’ve not a penny to spare, though, which is a right shame, as I’d love to buy something of yours. Got to stay in business long enough for me to save up.”

“I’ll try.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Soon after, they too trickled out of the shop and back to their duties at the house. Thomas knew he’d been spoiled today by so many familiar visitors and comforting faces, but he still couldn’t help but feel that the day was a success, and as much as he wasn’t quite ready to admit it to himself, he felt rather proud.

oOo

As the week stretched on, Thomas began to get used to the quiet moments in the store and the sudden contrast whenever a customer walked in. He felt more at ease with each passing day sitting at the workbench, working with all the intricate parts of various timepieces until he heard the soft ticking of each one and knew he had succeeded. He felt calm in a way that he so often hadn’t through the years at Downton, and while he wasn’t sure it would last, he was grateful for even the temporary peace it brought him.

He did miss the company of the people he’d grown so used to having by his side in the house, and so in free moments, he found himself thinking of when he might next stop by the downstairs for a cup of tea in the afternoon or late in the evening and enjoyed the thought that he had the freedom to choose whenever that might be.


	10. Chapter 10

Richard had always been adaptable. He thought it to be one of his strong suits. Yet, although he adapted quickly to Thomas being gone, he didn’t care for it nearly as much as when he was there. He missed the conversations he would share with Thomas in the pantry and had since taken to bringing the bookwork out into the servant’s hall or Mrs. Baxter’s sitting room so he could bother someone else while he did it. 

All the other staff were still agreeable to his presence as well, which did make his job easier. He never liked butlers who felt the need to bully everyone around to gain respect, and he didn’t plan to follow in their footsteps either. He seemed to have the right amount of respect and camaraderie with the staff so far and hoped to keep it that way just with his hard work and good nature. 

With Thomas gone, Richard found himself developing a particularly fast friendship with Mrs. Baxter. He found her to be sensitive yet sensible and always very much present in the moment. She reminded him a lot of Caroline, albeit a much calmer and reserved version, and found it immensely comforting.

“Thomas mentioned that you two knew each other as children,” he brought up to her one afternoon while taking a break from staring down at the endless numbers on the ledger. It felt odd calling him Thomas to her, even though she often did, but she just gave him her usual kind smile.

“We were. I was a good friend of his sister my whole childhood.”

“Are you still in touch? He mentioned they weren’t-“ He stopped himself, not wanting to seem like he was prying even when he was.

“I’m afraid not. We lost contact after we both began working. I thought about trying to write her once I got here and found Thomas, actually, but he mentioned that they didn’t get along anymore and it didn’t seem my place to pry, especially after so many years without contact. I’m still not sure if that was really the right choice or not.”

Richard thought for a moment and didn’t really know whether he thought that was the right answer or not, but it wasn’t his place to judge either. “You’re quite sensible, Mrs. Baxter. I’m sure it was.” She blushed vividly and looked away.

“It’s a pity it turned out the way it did. His family was always kind to me.”

“What was he like, as a child?”

She laughed a little, “He was always so serious, more so than he is now I would say really. I mean, he was always getting into some misadventure or another as all boys do, but he took everything quite seriously. It served him well, I suppose. He was good in school and at sport and in his father’s shop.”  
“I was terrible in school, could never pay attention and was out sick half the time. Loved the social part though.” 

Mrs. Baxter truly laughed at that, “I think it’s no surprise to anyone that you liked the social part, Mr. Ellis. I imagine your teacher had quite the difficult task keeping you quiet.”

Richard felt himself redden, “If you mind my chattering, do let me know. I promise I can work alone even if I don’t prefer it.”

“I’m only teasing, Mr. Ellis,” she replied, “It’s rather nice to have the day filled with conversation.”

oOo

Richard didn’t see Thomas again before his next half day and that would just have to do. He managed to get Sunday morning off, so he was able to take the train in to York late Saturday night and end up with a longer amount of time spent at home. 

His mum seemed less well than he hoped she would when he saw her, yet even though it was late by the time he arrived, she was determined not to let a moment go to waste.

“I hope you’ve been practicing your piano, Richard, because I expect to hear it,” she teased as soon as he’d hung his coat up.

“I haven’t really been as much as I’d like with working on my own now and all.”

“Well you know I’ll like whatever you play.”

“Yeah, I know, Mum. You’re the worst critic because you refuse to criticize,” he teased back, feeling the warmth settle into his stomach at being home. “Are you sure you’d like to hear something now, though? You’re not tired?”

She looked exhausted, but she shook her head, “I think I’d like to hear something before bed.”

“Okay,” he said softly, set his case down by the sofa, and headed for the piano bench.

He hadn’t brought any of the pieces he’d been working on with him, so he flipped through the books on top of the piano for a while before coming upon “Beautiful Dreamer” and felt his heart clench with the kind of incurable homesickness one feels for the past. 

It wasn’t terribly hard, but he just played through the melody a couple of times first to get the feeling of it beneath his fingers, and even though he barely fumbled through in some spots, Mum had closed her eyes in the corner, looking peaceful. He wondered if she’d fallen asleep, but as soon as he opened his mouth to softly sing the first line, he glanced over and saw her eyes were watery.

He was glad that he had to look at the music in front of him, because if he looked at her too long, he was afraid his eyes might become watery as well.

As soon as he finished though, he leaned his elbow against the piano and turned back to look at her.

“That was so lovely, Richard.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, embarrassed slightly.

“I used to play that for you when you were small.”

“I know,” he replied, biting the tip of his knuckle the way he had done as a child to stop the tide of emotions inside from spilling out. “I’m worried about you, Mum,” he said honestly and hated how his voice cracked at the end.

“Oh, darling…” she sighed, “I’m not young anymore, Richard.”

“I know… it’s just-“ but he didn’t know how to end that sentence. It was just everything.

She got up from her chair and walked over to where he was leaned again the piano to press a kiss to the top of his head, “You’re a much stronger man than you ever give yourself credit for. I’m not gone yet either, and you’ve too many wonderful things going on in your life to be worried about mine.”

“I don’t really.”

“Yes you do,” she said firmly, giving his hand a squeeze, “Now, I plan to go to bed with that beautiful lullaby still in my head, and I hope you’ll do the same.”

“Goodnight, Mum.”

As she left for the night, Richard changed into his nightclothes and laid out a blanket on the couch just as he had every night he’d spent at home since the war, opening all the sitting room curtains to let the blue night sky flood in.

oOo

In the morning, just after he’d gotten dressed, a knock sounded at the door, and Richard opened it to find Whitney there, his family sitting in the car parked out in the street.

“Oh,” he said, surprised, “Good morning, Richard.”

“Hello.”

“Do you know if Mum is wanting to go to church this morning?”

“I’m not sure, you’ll have to ask her. Or I could I suppose.”

“No, it’s alright,” he said and hurried off into the back bedroom.

As he went off, Richard headed out the front door to greet Laura, who was sitting in the passenger seat holding and already fussy young Evelyn, and June, who was still small enough that he could only see the bright blue bow in her bobbed hair over the backseat. 

He barely had time to say much more than good morning before Whitney was out again, “She said she might go to an evening service but is too tired now,” he sighed and, in his face,, Richard saw a mirror of his own concern. Whitney stopped then and looked again at Richard, “Would you care to come?”

Richard almost said no on instinct, but something about seeing Whitney’s own worry about their mother made him say yes before he even really thought about it, and in a second he was sliding into the backseat next to June, who looked at him with wide eyes and didn’t say a word. The whole car was full of nervous energy, which made him feel antsy. 

He then suddenly remembered a peppermint he’d put in his pocked the day before and pulled it out, reaching across the backseat to offer it to June.

“Do you like peppermint?”

She nodded but didn’t move to take it until he said more directly, “you can have it,” and then she plucked it out of his hand and popped the candy into her mouth.

Whitney looked back at them, “What do you say, June-love?”

“Thanks, Uncle Richard,” she said softly but then she relaxed.

Once they made it to York Minster, Whitney stayed outside with Evie until she stopped crying, and so Richard found himself seated with Laura and June as the service began. He didn’t bother trying to pay attention, but he just sat and let everything wash over him. He hummed along to the familiar hymns he’d sung hundreds of times as a child and almost remembered what it felt like to let his voice ring out through the old stone walls and feel heard. 

Sitting there, he thought he understood why Caroline had always been so inconsolably upset that she couldn’t join the choir. It made his whole body ache to remember what it was like to be a child, where he spent his days singing about the glory of God and everything had been alright.

He had closed his eyes at some point in the service, and when it was over, he opened them to see Whitney quickly turn away. At some point he had come back in, and Richard could tell that he had been watching him.


End file.
